


Built for a Family

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [33]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: What if Young Ian never was traded to the Indians, what would his adventures with his aunt, uncle, and cousin would there be on the ridge?





	Built for a Family

Uncle Jamie had promised him that when the house was finished, Brianna would move in with them and bring the baby with her. He’d invited Ian to join them––they’d been sure to put in more than enough rooms––but he’d had another idea he wanted Ian to consider.

“Ye ken how small the cabin is but the spot it’s on is good and it’ll no be so small for a man on his own,” Uncle Jamie had said.

“Ye mean… are ye sayin’ ye want me to have it?” Ian asked, surprised.

“Ye put as much into the building of it as I did,” Uncle Jamie pointed out. “And ye’re no a lad anymore. I’m no sayin’ ye’ll be lookin’ to wed right away…”

Ian flushed at the memory of his awkward proposal to Brianna less than a year before. There was part of him that thought he ought to have renewed his offer after they’d made it back from rescuing Roger from the camp––especially since he had gone off on his own after hearing about Brianna’s condition. Ian could see part of Brianna still hoped Roger would decide to come back to her but right now so much of her heart belonged to her new son, he was confident she would be fine if he didn’t.

And if Roger didn’t come back? Would Ian try to repeat his offer?

More likely than not she’d throw something at him if he did. She didn’t seem to appreciate her position and that whatever respect she was shown was due to Jamie’s position on the Ridge.

“But it’s no a bad thought to start preparin’ yerself for the day ye do,” Jamie continued.

Ian nodded. “I’ll think on it,” he promised.

And he did––he couldn’t stop thinking about the idea. As Brianna got the fussing baby down for the night and Auntie Claire and Uncle Jamie closed the door to their small bedroom, Ian rose from where he’d been sitting near the fire and bid his cousin goodnight. He ran his finger from the baby’s brow down his nose and watched as the pair of blue eyes crossed as he followed the movement, his eyelids following as well. Once they were so close to shutting, they fluttered a little but it was too much for the baby to force them open again and a moment later he had relaxed and was breathing with energetic force.

Brianna sighed with relief. “Thank you,” she whispered to Ian. She leaned back in her chair to build up the will to move the baby to the padded crate they she’d been using for a crib. It wouldn’t be long before he grew too long for it but as soon as the house was done Ian and Jamie had promised to start making a proper cradle that should last till the bairn could share a larger bed.

On impulse, Ian reached down and carefully lifted the baby from Brianna’s arms. He was heavier than Ian had expected yet still seemed so fragile; perhaps that was because he was so limp with sleep. Ian glanced briefly up at Brianna watching him with her baby. In the nearly two months since he’d been born, Ian had only held the baby a handful of times. Auntie Claire and Uncle Jamie were always there when Brianna needed a break and he was pretty sure Brianna still felt the awkwardness of that misguided proposal hanging between them––or maybe for her it was something to do with Roger and how he should be the one to be putting the child to bed…

Ian settled the baby into his nest of blankets and watched for a moment as the small mouth twitched with sleep. Though the child wasn’t his son, he did feel the tug beyond affection and familiarity, the tug of shared blood. His cousin’s child; family.

The chair creaked as Brianna rose and shuffled to the pallet that served as her bed, the ticking crinkling as she adjusted it to be more comfortable.

Ian nodded to her and drifted to the door of the cabin and slipped into the night. He’d begrudgingly slept in the small loft of the crude barn when Brianna first appeared on the Ridge but between the warmer weather and the baby disrupting everyone’s nights in the cabin, he was only too happy to have a separate place of his own. And if she went with the baby to the big house soon, he’d have that whole cabin to himself.

But now the thought of it being empty left him with an awkward feeling in his stomach. It was a home that deserved to hold a family within it and not in some distant future he still couldn’t quite fathom for himself––holding Brianna’s son like that… knowing that if she’d taken him up on his proposal they would be that family… It was an uncomfortable fit because it was Brianna and much as he wanted to do right by her, he was relieved she’d said ‘no,’ but the sense of having a being a family like that… of having a wife of his own, a son… Someday he wanted that, but for now he preferred what he had with Uncle Jamie and Auntie Claire, with _Cousin_ Brianna and his new nephew.

The straw rustled as he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. In the morning he would tell Uncle Jamie he’d made his decision.

* * *

Ian didn’t want to say anything until he was able to get Uncle Jamie alone. There was a chance––though only a small one––that Uncle Jamie hadn’t mentioned his idea about Ian taking the cabin for himself to Auntie Claire.

A surprise was waiting for them when they reached the field. Ian spotted the dark mass just visible through the stalks of wheat and caught Uncle Jamie’s arm to slow him. From the size, it might be an animal of some kind.

Wary, Uncle Jamie got a firm hold of the shovel he’d been carrying. Ian raised the hoe he held so that he could lash out and strike if the creature charged. With a nod to his uncle, Ian let out a loud and high-pitched yell, somewhere between the Scottish war cries he’d heard in stories of the Rising and those he’d heard his Tuscarora friends demonstrate.

The creature started and screamed, “Jesus fucking Christ!” leaping to his feet before crying out in pain and falling back to the ground.

Uncle Jamie and Ian hurried over to see who the man might be and discovered a shaggy and filthy Roger MacKenzie sprawled on the ground and clutching at a badly injured foot.

“It’s about time ye made it back,” Ian remarked as he lowered the hoe and reached out to help Roger to stand. “I was beginning to think ye were a coward and that it wasna a mistake to sell ye off after all.”

Roger glared at Ian even as he leaned on the younger man to ease the pressure on his aching foot. Uncle Jamie didn’t seem as eager to welcome Roger to the Ridge.

“Are ye here to stay then?” he asked with his arms crossed over his chest and an elbow resting on the handle of the shovel.

“I’m here to see Bree,” Roger declared.

“And the bairn? It’s a lad––a strong and healthy lad,” Uncle Jamie told him.

“Looks like Bree.” Ian’s tone was gentler than his uncle’s. He tried to catch the stern man’s eye and signal him to ease up or help with Roger but the steely blue eyes remained locked on Roger.

“I’m here to see Bree,” Roger repeated.

At last Uncle Jamie nodded and stabbed the shovel into the soil so he could take some of Roger’s weight off his other side. “Once ye’ve seen Bree ye’ll need to see Claire. She’ll ken what to do about this foot of yers.”

Ian managed to keep up a smattering of small talk as they made their way to the cabin. Entering the yard, they could hear the baby crying inside and Roger stopped so fast they came close to all landing in a pile in the dirt.

“I can give ye some tricks for getting him to quiet if ye need them,” Ian teased. “But Bree says ye’re a singer so maybe ye’ll be able to charm him wi’out help.”

Uncle Jamie glared at him over Roger’s head but Roger was too focused on what waited for him on the other side of the door to notice. Ian reached out and fiddled with the door until Auntie Claire heard him and pulled it open from the inside.

Brianna’s gasp was loud and it startled the baby into silence for a moment before he began crying again. She glanced back and forth from her father to Ian before rising quickly from her chair and bouncing the baby as she paced about the room. They settled Roger into the chair and everyone was silent except for the fussing baby.

Satisfied that no one needed him to stay, Ian slipped out of the cabin and started back to the fields, relieved to have something else to do. He’d learned early how important it was to slip away from scenes like that; staying too long and letting your curiosity win meant you risked getting dragged into the trouble yourself––and he’d always managed to find trouble easily enough without his siblings’ help.

Uncle Jamie had wanted to clear more rocks from the land and extend the field for more planting next year. The work moved faster with two but could be started with one using the hoe to turn the soil and locate the large boulders nesting below the surface. Some could be worked out with a few careful jabs or by some strong-armed wiggling while others required the shovel and excavation around the rock before they could be lifted out. Anything too large to handle on his own he left for Uncle Jamie to help him with later.

Sweat and dirt had left his shirt a crusty, muddy mess by midday when Uncle Jamie finally showed up with a meal sent by Auntie Claire.

“Thank ye, Ian,” Uncle Jamie said as he handed over a canteen with cool spring water. “It’ll no take long to move these out. Some look like they’ll make a sturdy fence if we can stack them right.”

Ian wiped his forehead on his sleeve and resisted the urge to upend the canteen over his head; his belly screamed for it more. Taking slow sips he sighed and asked, “How was Bree when ye left?”

“They’re goin’ to make a go of it though there’s still plenty to work out,” Uncle Jamie said, looking away. “Bree didna say before but he tells me they were handfast before…” his face hardened with embarrassment as he stumbled over the delicate details. “They’ve still a bit of time before the year and a day are up.”

“They should have the cabin,” Ian suggested quickly. “When the house is done, that is. They’ll need a place for themselves like that while they settle their minds.”

“Ye dinna mind comin’ up to the big house wi’ me and yer aunt?” Uncle Jamie asked. Ian couldn’t figure out what the light behind his eyes was––amusement, relief, trepidation…

Ian shrugged and grinned. “It’s no me needs to worry,” he insisted. “Whether they take it for themselves or no, I’ll be sleeping peaceful far from the bairn cryin’ in the night. The real question is whether or no _you_ want to have the wean disturbin’ you and Auntie Claire while ye… sleep.”

Uncle Jamie chuckled and started setting out the food while Ian dropped to the ground and started pulling off his damp shirt laying it aside to dry in the sun.

“Once we clear these stones out we should focus on finishing the house. The weather’s no rush but havin’ Roger here now…”

Ian nodded, his mouth full of bread still warm from the oven.

“And ye can start scoutin’ for a piece of land of yer own,” Uncle Jamie continued. “We can start clearin’ it before the harvest and over the winter I’ll help ye plan a house for yerself.” There was no teasing or pressure in his uncle’s face and Ian met his gaze, only gratitude and affection. “I meant what I said about wantin’ ye to have a place for when ye’re ready to settle and have a family of yer own.”

Ian nodded again as he struggled to swallow what was in his mouth without choking on it.

“I think it’ll be some time yet,” Ian managed quietly.

It was Uncle Jamie’s turn to nod. “Perhaps. Ye never know when ye’ll find her––the woman ye’ll want to marry––but ye’ll ken right away when ye do and ye’ll want to have something ready for her so ye dinna have to wait to wed her.”

“Was that how it was with you and Auntie Claire?”

Uncle Jamie grinned. “I kent right away, aye. But I’d nothing to offer her really and if it weren’t for her being in worse straits than me I dinna ken she’d ever have wed an outlaw like me. Ye canna count on the lass ye love being so desperate as you.”

“Mam always did say I had yer luck,” Ian joked. “Though usually she only said that when I found myself in trouble.”

“Aye well… if ye have my bad luck I hope ye can have whatever luck it was brought yer Auntie Claire to me as well,” Uncle Jamie said with sincerity.

Ian hoped so too.


End file.
